QUID PRO QUO
ReVival comes back from commercial to the sound of…whistling?
Whistling…and an image of a portly man on crutches, with a neck brace, in an ill-fitting suit with a bad comb-over.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Melvin Beauregard, PWA Liaison and all-around shitty little toad, crutches down the hallway with a song in his heart and bad intentions in his mind. If he hears the PRIMEates’ reaction out in the arena proper, he pays it no attention.
It’s not long before Melvin stops to rap his hairy, unmoisturized knuckles annoyingly on an office door. He doesn’t bother waiting for an answer or an invitation…he just makes his way in.
Melvin Beauregard: Hello, hello! How’s my favorite PWA owner doing?
Lindsay Troy looks up from her phone with a frigid glare and makes no move to greet Melvin.
Melvin Beauregard: Ouch. Not in the best of moods, I see.
Lindsay Troy: I have no idea what could possibly give you that impression.
Melvin Beauregard: Now, is that any way to treat your colleague? Especially on a night like tonight? Closing out the Grand Garden Arena before heading out on the road…it’s the talk of the industry!
Lindsay Troy: Uh huh. Cut to the chase, Melvin.
Melvin crutches toward Lindsay’s desk and stands in front of a chair, ignoring the comfy fabric.
Melvin Beauregard: I know you know why I’m here. I was assaulted by one of your employees and I have the footage to prove it. You also walked out on a very important, very lucrative meeting between all of the PWA owners, and that simply will not do.
Melvin steeples his fingers and smiles, disingenuously.
Melvin Beauregard: But…I am a businessman, and as a businessman I recognize the power of negotiations. So, I’m willing to make you a deal, because I like you, Ms. Troy. You agree to have PRIME be a part of PWA1 on January 14th, and I’ll let the cowboy go free. When the police ask me to remember the evening, I’ll tell them I was mistaken, that I did just fall over after having a chat with my closest friend Wade.
Melvin drops the crutches to the ground, and does a little twirl. The cheshire cat isn’t capable of a grin like Melvin Beauregard’s right now. He withdraws a large manilla folder with the PWA logo from his murse and slides it across the table to LT.
Melvin Beauregard: All you have to do is sign your name on the dotted line.
The Lady of the Hour looks at Melvin, then looks at the folder. She taps an index finger on the cover, considering her options.
Lindsay Troy: Y’know…if you were really going to do anything to Wade like you said in your email, you would’ve brought the police with you and they’d have him in cuffs right now.
She smiles.
Lindsay Troy: But you didn’t.
Melvin grins back, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.
Melvin Beauregard: I did bring my phone, dear.
Lindsay Troy: Mmhmm. I’ll tell you what, Mel…
She reaches into her briefcase and produces a PRIME blue folder of her own and slaps it down on the table.
Lindsay Troy: You sign mine and I’ll sign yours. Call it a little quid pro quo.
Melvin picks the folder up and smiles. He looks through the paperwork – a Non-Disclosure Agreement – quickly and smiles. He places a black and red PWA pen on the desk for Lindsay Troy, and brandishes his own out of his shirt pocket.
Melvin Beauregard: Done.
The Queen flicks the pen away and takes a blue and black PRIME pen from the front drawer.
Lindsay Troy: After you.
Melvin Beauregard: Guess we’re going to have to go at the same time.
Lindsay Troy: Guess this’ll be your first time doing that with a woman.
She opens up the PWA folder, reads over the contract and, not finding anything untoward, begins signing her name. Melvin does the same on his papers.
Melvin Beauregard: I hope it was as good for you, as it was for me.
Lindsay Troy: I’ll take “things a woman has never told you” for a thousand.
She tosses her pen on her desk.
Lindsay Troy: Now fuck off.
The PWA Liaison gives her a mock-salute, gathers up his crutches, and struts out the door. As it clicks shut, Lindsay sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.
She might not have wanted to sign that paperwork…but protecting one of her own will always come first.